The Lonely Mechanic
by Will Peterson
Summary: One day, a lonely mechanic named Franz Lota lures Edward into his house and then sexually abuses him. Explicit content.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: I am absolutely not an expert on the subject I'm attempting to write about. Expect the material in this story to be inaccurate and possibly offensive. Please do not read if you think it will bother you._

_Thank you very much. This work will contain four chapters. The first starts now._

**Chapter 1**

Edward Elric had a headache. He rubbed the skin between his eyes and sighed as he placed the book he'd just finished back onto the library shelf. There was still no useful information to be found. He walked to the area where his brother sat reading. "You find anything interesting, Al?"

"Yes, it turns out that the alchemist Caslon Dotting could write with both hands at once," Alphonse replied. "I didn't find anything about how we could get our bodies back, though."

"Oh, well. We'd better keep searching."

Ed's stomach growled. Al looked at him. "Brother, we've been here since early morning and now it's well past noon. You should go eat lunch."

Ed put his arms above his head and stretched. "I guess I will. I need to get out and walk anyway; I'm all stiff from sitting here so long. I'll come back afterwards."

He went out, leaving his brother at the library to continue their research. The air felt refreshing as it filled his lungs. He ventured into the streets and tried to recall where the nearest place he could eat was. People passed him by on his left and right as he walked, but he barely noticed anyone until he was suddenly approached by a scruffy sandy-haired man.

The man put a hand on Ed's shoulder to stop him walking. "Hey," he said in a low, scratchy voice. "You're using auto-mail."

Ed glanced down at himself. He was completely covered from the neck down due to his coat and gloves. "How can you tell?"

"You're squeaking."

"Wow, it's that loud?"

"No, but I have a very discerning ear."

Ed patted his left knee. "You're right, though. My leg's been squeaking since the day before yesterday."

"Don't you have a mechanic?"

"Yes, but she lives in Resembool, and I don't want to travel all the way there for a problem so minor."

And then the man said, "I'm an auto-mail mechanic too. I could check your leg for you."

Ed was surprised. "Thank you, but are you sure? It's really not a big deal."

"Oh, I insist. We mechanics are a nitpicky bunch. I can't stand the thought of seeing someone with imperfect auto-mail and not doing anything to help."

He sounded so sincere that Ed actually found it quite impressive. "Thank you, mister."

"My name's Lota. Franz Lota."

"I'm Edward."

Lota told Ed to follow him to his house. Ed complied, even though he wanted to get lunch instead. He thought it'd be rude to make this kind stranger wait for him while he ate. They walked until they reached a small, boxy brown house. Once inside, Lota led Ed to a room in the back of the house, where an array of tools was neatly laid out on a long wooden table. Lota shut the door behind them and then pulled up two chairs for him and his client.

Since it was his leg being examined, Ed had to remove his shoes and pants at Lota's request. He sat down in his assigned chair wearing nothing below the waist but his underwear. Lota sat down opposite him, tools in hand. The gaze he directed toward Ed's lower body seemed oddly intense, to the point where it actually made Ed blush. But he told himself that reaction was ridiculous. The whole reason he was there was to have his leg looked at. Lota was just doing his job.

At first Lota was silent, but he soon struck up a conversation while he worked. "Every morning I see you walk by my house with a huge guy in a suit of armor."

"That's my younger brother, Alphonse."

"He's younger than you? That's interesting. How old are you two?"

"I'm fourteen and he's thirteen."

"And where are you kids headed off to on your own each morning?"

"We go to the library. We're both avid readers."

Lota's next question was completely unexpected. "Do you love your brother, Edward?"

"Of course."

"More than anyone else in the whole world?"

The word "yes" was out his mouth before he could even think about it. The quickness of his own response startled him, as did the sudden raw pain in his voice. It was hard to talk about his feelings toward Al without thinking about all he'd put him through, trapping him in that hulking piece of metal.

Lota smiled. "I'm jealous. I've loved many people before, but no one has ever loved me in return."

"You don't have a wife or anything?"

"No, Edward. I have no one."

The man started to cry. It freaked Ed out. "Hey," he said in a pitiful attempt to be soothing. "Don't be like that. What's wrong?"

Lota wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Sorry. It's just that when I think of people like you, who both love and are loved in return, it makes me feel so sad. I'm jealous of you but I guess I'm happy for you as well. I have no friends or family of my own. No one even visits me. I am . . . incredibly lonely."

Ed felt a pang in his heart.

"Do you have any other artificial limbs?" Lota asked abruptly.

"Yeah, my right arm is auto-mail too."

"Since you're here anyway, why don't I check that as well?"

How could Ed refuse, when tears were still leaking from this poor man's cloudy grey eyes? His empty stomach growled in protest, but it seemed insignificant compared to the intense desolation he could feel emanating from the mechanic. There was no telling how long it had been since Lota's last visitor. Ed had to stay and give him solace for just a little while longer . . .

Ed's metal arm extended all the way to his shoulder, so he had to strip again for Lota to examine it properly. While he removed his coat and shirt, Lota told him, "Don't move your left leg. I still have work to do there." So Ed kept his leg still, which he found to be remarkably easy.

"Loose screws in your arm," Lota muttered after a second. "Need to fix that too."

"Wow, really? Thanks a lot. I never noticed anything wrong."

While Lota worked on the mechanical limb, Ed tried to fidget as little as possible, but hunger was starting to make him feel dizzy. He caught himself swaying to one side. He tried to balance himself by shifting the position of his feet. Then he remembered that he wasn't supposed to move his left leg.

And then he noticed something else. He was literally incapable of moving his left leg.

Lota, who had been holding Ed's arm, released it from his grasp. It fell limply to Ed's side. He tried, but he couldn't move that either.

"Mr. Lota, what –" Ed was cut off by a pair of arms colliding with his side, knocking him out of his chair and sending him tumbling to the ground. He hit his head on the tiled floor and was dazed at once. Before he could register a thing, Lota picked him up and swiftly dropped him on the ground beside the table. In the blink of an eye, the mechanic produced a short cord and tied Ed's living wrist against the table leg.

Lota gingerly sat down, resting most of his weight on the boy. Ed struggled, but with his flesh arm bound and his auto-mail limbs completely disabled, he couldn't do much. When Lota pulled the hair tie out of Ed's braid and ran his fingers through the loose gold strands, all the alchemist could do was shudder.

"Edward," Lota whispered in a reverent tone. "So pretty . . ."

"What are you going to do if I scream?" Ed challenged faintly.

"My neighbors are tremendously apathetic. I did tell you that no one visits me. But I doubt they'll hear you anyway; the walls are very thick."

Al flashed through Ed's mind, but it could be hours before the armored boy even started to feel suspicious over his big brother's absence. Ed was alone. Despair welled up, threatening to choke him. He wasn't ignorant. The way Lota stroked his hair, the worshipful gleam in those grey eyes – Ed knew full well what this lonely man's intentions were.

Lota's hands moved from Ed's hair to his face, cupping his cheeks and holding his head tightly in place. Then, to Ed's complete horror, the man leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. He went slowly, tenderly shaping his lips around Ed's, tasting him fully before slipping his tongue inside the boy's mouth. It was like a lover's kiss, except that one party was fighting the urge to gag.

Finally Lota drew back, breathing quite heavily, his fingers once again tangled with Ed's hair. He pulled the locks so hard that Ed felt like the skin of his scalp would be ripped off. "I can't believe how much I want you," the man said, his voice husky. "I can't bear to wait, but I can't let this end so quickly either. I have to savor our time together."

_No,_ Ed thought. _Just get it over with._ But of course the man wouldn't have listened even if Ed had spoken out loud.

Hot fingertips ran all over Ed's body, caressing his neck and chest and feeling the muscles of his right arm before moving to trail down his living leg. The touches made his stomach turn. He tried to stay silent, determined to emerge from this ordeal with his dignity intact, but he couldn't help growling when Lota's hand pressed between his legs.

The growl died when Lota tugged away the boy's underwear, removing his last article of clothing. His own vulnerability terrified him. Lota reached for the young boy's penis, but paused, seeming to reconsider. Instead he gazed at Ed's body for several moments before kissing him again, hungrier and more demanding this time, but still maintaining that artificial intimacy.

Ages later, he withdrew from the kiss and shifted off of Ed, who cringed as the man stripped naked in front of him. Lota tossed his clothes aside and then carefully positioned himself above Ed's face. He bent his knees and pried Ed's lips apart with his fingers before he lowered himself into the boy's mouth. Ed nearly screamed with disgust.

"Come on, now," Lota said softly. "Don't resist. You know I'm not letting you out of here until I get what I need from you." He rocked his body gently back and forth. Though Ed instinctively shied away from the object invading his mouth, there simply wasn't enough room for him to avoid brushing his tongue against it.

Lota was persistent. Every so often he would murmur some words of approval or encouragement, but his movements soon quickened, belying his true desperation. It seemed he was torn between his carnal needs and his perverse desire to romanticize the situation. Ed knew he would be released sooner if he went along with Lota's plan and pleasured him like a good hostage. But the thought was so repulsive that he physically couldn't bring himself to do it. He held himself limp and allowed the man to use him until his lips were sore and his tongue went numb.

With a sigh, Lota finally removed himself from Ed's mouth. Ed stared at the man's hard arousal, knowing where it would soon be placed. "So uncooperative," Lota mumbled as he crawled backward toward Ed's feet. "I guess it's time to shift gears."

"Mr. Lota?" Ed's voice was raspy, which might've alarmed him if he hadn't had bigger things to worry about. "Why are you doing this to me? You don't even know me."

"Sometimes you don't have to know someone to feel like you do. I think you're beautiful, Edward, and somebody ought to show you that."

"And this was the only way to do that?"

"Well," Lota said. "This is for me, too. Not just you."

He used his hands to separate Ed's legs. He took hold of the boy's hips and lifted them off the floor.

"Please stop," Ed pleaded. "Don't do this to me."

"Sorry, Edward. You may not like it now, but I'm sure in the future you'll come to appreciate this day." The tip of his arousal slid inside Ed's body. The rest of it followed, bit by bit, at an exceptionally slow pace. Lota probably figured he was being careful, but pain still clawed at Ed.

Lota found a rhythm soon enough. Ed shut his eyes when the thrusts began coming at a regular rate. He clenched his fist and bit his tongue to keep from crying out. The agony was only getting worse. He prayed it would become great enough to knock him unconscious and let him escape from where he was. But of course, that never happened. Despite his best efforts to will himself into oblivion, he remained fully awake and aware of every moment of his violation.

It was a relief when he heard Lota moan and felt a warm fluid pour inside him. That had to mean the ordeal was over. Ed opened his eyes. His body ached and he was incredibly dizzy, but at least now he had no more to endure.

"Oh, now that was really something," the lonely man sighed as he pulled out of the boy. Ed silently waited to be untied, but Lota seemed content with merely lying beside him and caressing his skin at the moment.

"You are planning to release me, right?" Ed said eventually. His voice was even hoarser than it had been before.

"I'll have to, unfortunately," Lota murmured. "But not until you've had your own pleasure." He sat up and wrapped his hand around Ed's length. "I'm not selfish, you know."

Ed's blood froze. There was more?

Lota pumped Ed with vigor, causing the boy to cry out as his back arched. Waves of urgent sensation rushed into his body, collecting inside him and building to an unbearable level. His wrist strained against the cord; his skin screamed in protest as it was scraped raw. A startled grunt left his lips as white fluid burst from the tip of his penis.

He stared at his semen in horror. _No. No way._

Lota gave him another long kiss before standing up to get a tissue and some tools. First he used the tissue to wipe the semen off Ed's skin. Then he got to work on Ed's auto-mail.

Ed's vision swam before him. He lost track of time; he didn't know how much of it had passed when Lota announced, "Done. Your auto-mail is fully repaired now."

Ed slowly rolled each of his mechanical limbs onto their sides. He could move them again. He glanced at his flesh arm and was surprised to find it untied. He hadn't noticed Lota taking care of that.

Lota lightly dropped Ed's clothes onto him. He stared at this offering, uncomprehending, too dazed to remember what to do with it. After a minute, Lota tilted his head in confusion. "Do you want me to dress you?"

The question provided Ed with a bit of dim awareness. He willed himself to sit up and somehow managed. He worked at a snail's pace, but eventually he was fully dressed once more, his hair returned to its standard braid. By this time Lota had already put on all of his own clothes. He took Ed's hand, helping him to his feet, and escorted him to the front door.

"Good-bye, Edward," Lota said as the boy stumbled down the steps. "Come back any time you wish."


	2. Chapter 2

_Why is it that, after falling in love with a character, I usually write stories that torture him? These days when I read FMA, I often look at Ed's face and think, "Gosh, Edward. I had you raped." I feel the need to say "sorry" out loud to a goddamned manga page._

_I feel that this story is not so much about Fullmetal Alchemist as it is merely about pain._

**Chapter 2**

Ed knew that he must be walking, because the scenery around him kept scrolling along, but he was barely aware of the motion of his legs. He was barely aware of anything at all. The crowds seemed silent around him. He looked at his path without really seeing it. The only thing he could really feel was a steady ache under his skin, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

He ended up going to the hotel where he and Alphonse were staying. As soon as he entered their room, he was assaulted by an overwhelming sense of defilement. He all but ran into the bathroom, throwing off his clothes and getting in the shower without waiting for the water to warm up. When it did become hot, it was scalding, but he didn't care about that either. Filth was in his blood. It was coating his bones. It was dirtying the whole inside of his body and he was desperate to get it out.

Over an hour passed before the revulsion abated just enough for him to stop the water. As he dried himself with a towel, he saw that his skin had turned red with heat and his fevered attempt to clean it. He left the bathroom and exhaustion instantly fell upon him. As he tottered toward the bed, he wondered how long he was going to be at the mercy of these lurching emotions that hit him one after the other. He wondered if he would always feel as insane as he did now.

He didn't have the energy to think about it. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

**(Segment Break)**

"Brother?"

He moaned and opened his eyes just a crack. Al was kneeling next to the bed, his metallic face level with Ed's own. Behind Al was the window, through which Ed could see a glowing orange sunset.

"What happened to you?" Al asked.

"Huh?" Ed felt disoriented. Where was he? What was he doing?

"You went out to lunch and didn't come back, brother."

"Oh." The memories were rushing back to him now. They were giving him a stabbing headache. "I started to feel sick while I was eating, so I decided to come by here and rest a little. I didn't mean to sleep so long."

Al's face was unchanging as usual, but Ed could tell intuitively that he was concerned. "You don't look or sound well at all. Are you still tired?"

"Yeah."

"Go back to sleep, then. Sorry for waking you up."

"No problem." Ed closed his eyes and quickly returned to oblivion.

He knew he should've felt starving when he woke up the next morning, but he didn't. He ate breakfast anyway, since skipping another meal seemed like a bad idea. Al sat at the table with him, watching him listlessly chew his food. "Are you sure you want to go out today, Ed?"

"I'm fine. We're just sitting in the library and reading. That's hardly a strenuous activity."

Ed abruptly recalled that if they used their usual route to go to the library, they would pass Lota's house. "Hey, why don't we take the long way today? It's a beautiful day for walking."

Al glanced out the window. It was raining. "If you say so."

"Great. Long way it is." But Ed was already wondering what excuse he'd use on the trip back, not to mention tomorrow and the day after.

**(Segment Break)**

_I hate this,_ Ed thought. _I hate this I hate this I hate this I hate myself._

Just an hour ago he'd woken up in a trance, but now all his senses were on a painful high alert. Every sound made him look up from his book and glance frantically around the room. No matter how harshly he berated himself for sensing danger when there wasn't any, it couldn't stop his heart from racing.

"Brother?"

A chill ran down Ed's spine. "What – oh, Al. What's up?"

"You look even worse now than you did at breakfast," Al said accusingly. "Let me take you back to the hotel. It's clear you need to rest today."

Ed had scarcely read a sentence of the book he was holding. He couldn't stand the thought of wasting the day without getting any research done. On the other hand, staying where he was and feeling the rise of his own irrational fear wasn't a bright prospect either.

He was still on the fence about the decision when a bit of movement caught his eye. He noticed a man standing across the room, wandering from one bookshelf to another. Ed stumbled backward, feeling sick. His knees weakened but his hands reflexively pressed together. He was a second away from transmuting his arm to a blade before he realized that the man across the room was a complete stranger. He didn't even _look_ like Lota.

"Ed? Are you still there?" Al's voice seemed to come from miles away.

Ed stared at the floor as he worked to calm himself. He was promptly burnt by shame when he saw he was shaking. This perfectly mundane sight had reduced a state alchemist to a defensive child, liable to lash out but terrified all the same. To Ed, this was another indication that he'd truly lost his mind.

He turned to Al. "Sure," he said hastily. "Let's go back."

**(Segment Break)**

Returning to the hotel brought Ed a welcome sense of relief. Not as much as he would've liked, but at this point he would take what he could get. It wasn't based on any particular set of logic, but he felt safer in this locked room, lying underneath the covers of a prim white bed.

Sleep didn't come as easily as it had the night before. Ed must have lain there counting his breaths for hours before unconsciousness finally deigned to reach down and claim him. It didn't turn out to be the peaceful oblivion he wanted, either. Sleep was cruel to him this time.

He dreamed he was walking down a wide dirt path, except the dirt was crisp white instead of brown. Little green sprouts intermittently flanked the path on both sides. They were the only sign of life besides Ed himself; the area was devoid of other people. He had no idea where he was going. He just knew that something compelled him to move forward.

He walked for what seemed an interminable amount of time before he noticed that the dirt path wasn't white anymore. It was turning grey. He wanted to stop then but his feet were moving independently of his mind. The path continued to darken until he had trouble distinguishing it from his black shoes. The surrounding sprouts withered and died before his eyes. Finally, his feet stopped walking and a small cubic house appeared in front of him. His hand knocked on the front door. Only then did he realize how numb he felt inside.

Franz Lota answered the door, a smile lifting his lips when he saw who was visiting. "Edward. I was hoping you'd come back."

Something extremely wrong was about to happen. Ed could see that, but he was unable to say a word. His lips were frozen shut. His body was operating entirely on its own.

Lota put an arm around Ed's shoulders and swept him into the house. "No need for words," the man said fondly as he closed the door. "I know why you're here."

Ed didn't.

Lota raised his hand and touched Ed's face. As soon as he did, the room around them vanished and was replaced by different walls. They stood in a bedroom now. Lota leaned forward and kissed the boy on the lips. Something like disgust registered dimly in Ed's mind, but the numbness overshadowed it.

He stood motionless as Lota undressed him. When they lay down in the bed together, he allowed the man to do whatever he pleased. Ed didn't enjoy the fevered caresses, but his body wouldn't shy away from them either. He remained limp as a rag doll, his heart stone cold.

When Ed awoke from this dream, the sun was setting and his stomach was turning. He went to check the rest of the hotel room, calling Al's name. There was no response. Once satisfied that he was alone, Ed headed to the bathroom and proceeded to violently throw up.


	3. Chapter 3

_Even the strongest of us can be broken in an instant._

**Chapter 3**

Over the next week, Ed rapidly lost the fiery energy once characteristic of him. Night and day, despair clung to him and tormented him. He tried his best to act normal and pretend everything was fine, but at times the pain inside him would swell until he feared it would burst out of his body, shattering him into pieces. He grew increasingly prone to suddenly falling into stupor, as if his brain was trying to distance itself from the dark misery threatening to consume it.

He'd been sitting on his bed for a while, caught in another daze, when a clatter snapped him out of it. He glanced to his right and saw the metal tray Al had forcefully placed on the bedside table. "Well, brother, it looks like I'll have to watch over your health for a while, since you're clearly not doing that yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been watching you this past week. You've barely eaten a thing. I know you're not feeling well, so I only brought you a little bit of food, but you need to start getting more in you if you don't want to starve."

It crossed Ed's mind that perhaps he did want to starve, but he didn't say that out loud. He eyed the meager contents of the tray. "I hate milk," he said automatically.

"You have to drink it if you ever expect to grow taller, Shorty," Al replied.

Ed picked a lump of bread off the plate and nibbled the corner. Several minutes later, when he finished it, he noticed that Al hadn't moved an inch since he last spoke. Looking at him, Ed sensed a storm of worry brewing behind his brother's inanimate face.

"Edward."

"What?" Ed muttered.

"I just called you short."

"Oh. Right. Who are you calling so short that he can only wear clothes made for dolls?"

"This is far more serious than I ever could have imagined," Al declared gravely.

Ed didn't like that tone. "Look, Al, I'll admit that I've been feeling a little under the weather lately, but you –"

"You haven't just been 'under the weather.' You've been seriously ill. I realize that now. I should've realized it days ago."

"You didn't do anything wrong –"

"I think you need to see a doctor –"

"You're getting worked up over nothing –"

"Brother." Al sat down on the side of the bed. His voice turned softer. "I'm trying to get through to you. Imagine if I was the one with a body and I became afflicted with the same thing as you. You'd worry about me as well, wouldn't you?"

Abruptly, breathing became a lot harder. Ed felt as though a knife was piercing his heart. Memories of Lota were flooding back to his head with incredible vividness. But it wasn't himself that Ed saw in this vision. Instead he saw Al, not as a great suit of armor but as the little ten-year-old boy he'd been when he last had his body. It was Al that Ed saw lying on that floor, tied to the table leg and widening his eyes in terror as Lota leaned over him.

_Imagine I became afflicted with the same thing as you._ Al had no idea what he'd just said. The thought of someone hurting him in the same way Lota had hurt Ed was more than Ed could bear.

It occurred to him that, if they managed to restore Al's body as they were so desperately trying to, it would become possible for Al to be raped as well. Everyone with a body faced that risk.

"Equivalent exchange," Ed murmured.

"What?" Al said.

_I have to bring Lota to justice,_ Ed thought. _He can't do that to me without expecting punishment in return._

He stood up. "You're right, Al. I'll go right now."

**(Segment Break)**

He didn't feel like he needed an escort, but Al insisted and Ed knew he wouldn't be able to argue. Together they tracked down the local hospital, where they found the waiting room to be mostly empty. Ed was brought to a room shortly after their arrival. He didn't have to sit for long before a doctor with square glasses and a name tag reading _Shawl_ showed up.

Ed appreciated the quickness of it all. It was a good mirror for the way his heart was beating.

"Your name?" Dr. Shawl said.

"Edward," he replied, and then after a moment's consideration he added, "Elric."

"The state alchemist?"

"Yes."

Civilians tended to have strong reactions – whether it be awe or animosity – when they learned that a dog of the military was in their midst. Shawl, however, responded with only a slight nod of her head. "And what brings you here, sir?"

On the way to the hospital, he'd thought about what to say and he'd decided the best approach was to be blunt. It wouldn't help anyone if he stuttered and dodged around the issue. He intended to give a simple, unemotional report.

What actually came out of his mouth was a whisper so piteous that it appalled him. "I was raped."

The doctor was silent for a moment. Then she said, "When?"

"Last week. I'm sorry; I know I should've come here right away."

"Better late than never. Do you know the identity of your attacker?"

"His name is Franz Lota. I know where his house is."

"Have you reported this to anyone?"

"Not yet."

"We'll do that after I examine you."

"What are you looking for?" he asked warily.

"Injuries and such. Evidence of abuse that we can use in case we need to testify against your rapist. How much did he do with you?"

Ed blushed brilliantly.

"I see," she said dully. "In that case, I'll have to be . . . thorough. I'm sorry."

He made himself swallow his mortification. "It's fine. I understand."

"If you like, sir, I can anesthetize you so you won't have to be awake for the process."

He shook his head.

"Are you sure? It doesn't make you a weak person if you accept."

"I want to be awake," he grumbled. "You're a detached medical professional, aren't you? How insane must I be if I can't even let you look at me without feeling traumatized?"

"That wouldn't mean you're insane. That would only mean you're human."

"I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist, ma'am. I've got to be more than that. I . . . I have to get better." He moved his hand to the bottom of his shirt. "Just get on with it, please."

**(Segment Break)**

Dr. Shawl took notes on a pad of paper while Ed redressed himself on the other side of the room. Something inside him felt a little off-balance, but he decided he felt okay overall. That was better than he expected from himself, but he was reluctant to call it a victory. It just seemed too small.

"It doesn't look like that man transferred any diseases to you," Dr. Shawl said. "Still, it'd be best if you took a blood test, just to be safe."

So Ed found himself sitting atop the examination table again, holding out his left arm for the doctor to swab with an alcohol wipe and then stick a needle into. Silently he watched as the syringe she held filled with his blood.

When she removed the needle, she commented, "An acquaintance of mine once told me that there's something to be said of the people who watch themselves bleed, rather than look away."

"What is said about them?" he asked.

"I've forgotten." She handed him a bandage. "Nevertheless, I think I got a good handle of your personality earlier when you said, 'I have to get better.' Your determination is admirable, but what you may be failing to understand is that being raped isn't like getting a cut or breaking a bone. You can't wrap up the wound and feel it heal a bit every day. Recovery is complicated. Despite your best efforts, it may never fully come."

She was eloquent, but she was wrong about one thing. He did understand. After losing their mother as children, he and Al had become well-acquainted with the invisible wounds that didn't heal properly. Now, years later, they were still reeling from the event. Some days it seemed like their recovery had barely started at all. The thought that his rape could be of the same nature as his mother's death was utterly nauseating. Ed didn't want to be haunted by Lota for another second, let alone the rest of his life.

"Sir?" the doctor said. Ed realized his face probably looked like a mess. He worked to smooth his expression.

"I need to tell you something," he blurted out. If he couldn't erase the ball of hurt Lota had put in his chest, he had to at least minimize it.

"What is it?" Dr. Shawl asked.

"During the . . . crime . . . Lota made me . . . I mean, it wasn't pleasant at all, so I don't know why it happened, but . . ."

His stupid throat was closing on him. He didn't want to say the word.

She said it for him. "You experienced orgasm during the rape." Her tone was flat. It was the tone he wanted to use but couldn't find.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"Sir, that is merely the way the body responds to that type of stimulation. It is absolutely not an indication that you enjoyed being assaulted."

"But –"

"Listen to me," she said. "It's common for rape victims to have a distorted view of the event. I need you to understand that what happened to you is not your fault. You didn't ask for it. You did not somehow bring it on to yourself. And you did not deserve it. All right?"

"Okay." He did feel a little better, hearing that. He decided he would believe her, mostly because he wouldn't survive if he didn't. "So, earlier you mentioned that we were going to report this crime. When?"

"Right now. Do you want to call them yourself or would you like me to be there too?"

"Come with me," he found himself saying. Just this once, he supposed it wouldn't make him a weak person to say so.


	4. Chapter 4

_What I've found with rape stories is that they are exactly that - stories about rape, and rarely about recovery. This, of course, is because when you write about recovery, there is no place to stop._

_This is the last chapter. Thank you all so much for reading._

**Chapter 4**

Al was wandering around the hospital. He assumed it was all right for him to do so, as none of the staff who'd passed him by had asked him to stop. Obviously he knew better than to enter any closed rooms, so he restricted his walking to the open areas that weren't behind doors.

Presently he came into a long, narrow hallway that was occupied only by a row of phones and two people. One of them Al recognized at once. "Hey, Ed!" he said.

Ed glanced at him, mouthed something that might've been "hello," and then returned to staring at the wall across from him. Al approached the bench where his brother sat. He was about to speak to him, but he stopped when he noticed the woman standing nearby them. She was using one of the phones. Somehow, he could tell instinctively that she was with Ed.

"There are visible rectal abrasions," the doctor was saying into the phone. "I also found a sore on his tongue and chafing on his left wrist, which he says resulted from him straining against his bonds. The attack happened a week ago, so all the wounds are partially healed, but still noticeable."

The person on the other end said something Al couldn't make out. "Yes, that's fine," the doctor replied. She put her hand over the receiver and looked at Ed. "They're transferring us to someone else."

Ed nodded.

He was ignoring his younger brother, but not in a mean-spirited way. It seemed more like he was unable to look at him. It puzzled Al.

"Yes, I can hear you." The doctor was speaking to the phone again. "My name is Dr. Shawl and I'm calling to report the rape of Edward Elric."

It was like a wrecking ball had smashed into Al. _What? _The word echoed in his head like the ringing of a loud bell. _What? What?_

"The man's name is Franz Lota and he – oh, your subordinate already told you everything. That's good." She paused as the other person spoke. Then she said, "Well, I'll ask him." She turned to Ed. "Can you speak to him?"

Wordlessly Ed held out his hand and she gave him the phone. To Al's surprise, Ed motioned for him to come closer. Al sat down beside him and leaned over so that the sides of their heads were nearly touching, with only the phone pressed between them.

"Edward Elric here," Ed said.

"Fullmetal!" the voice on the other end exploded. "What is this I'm hearing about you getting raped? Is this some kind of joke?"

Ed frowned, surprised. "Is that you, Colonel? Since when did you handle rape cases?"

"Since they involved state alchemists," Roy Mustang replied tersely. "Now tell me if it's true or not."

"It's true. I was raped by a man named Franz Lota."

"A civilian?"

"Yes."

"How in the world did a civilian take down the Fullmetal Alchemist? Wait, never mind. That's not important right now. Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay," Ed snapped. "Who's okay after being raped?"

"Fullmetal." Mustang actually sounded chagrined. "I . . . I'll send some people to fetch him. How soon can you get to the nearest military base?"

"I can go as soon as I hang up this phone."

"Do it, then." Mustang paused. "I'm sorry this happened to you," he said softly before hanging up.

Ed returned the phone to Dr. Shawl, who placed it back in the cradle. "My brother and I have to leave now," he told her.

"Will you two be all right by yourselves?"

"Yes, we will. Thank you for everything, doctor."

She inclined her head to him. "It is my duty, Fullmetal."

Ed started to leave the hallway. After a few steps, he paused and looked over his shoulder. "Are you coming with me, Al?"

His voice revived the armored boy, who had been frozen on the bench. He stood and went to walk with his brother, his footsteps feeling incredibly heavy. It seemed Ed was trying to keep his face blank, but Al could see the deep misery painted in his gold eyes.

"I don't understand," Al said.

"You know what rape is, don't you?"

"I know the definition, but I don't know . . . what it _means."_

Ed released a long sigh. "It's bad, Al. I don't even know how to describe it. I haven't felt this low since the day Mom died."

"When did –" Al stopped, having realized the answer to his own question. "It was that day when you went out to lunch and never came back."

"Yeah."

"You didn't tell me."

"I couldn't. I just . . . It was like he'd suddenly turned me into a toy, and I was dirty and used and I just . . . I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to see me like that."

"How could you think like that? Nothing could ever lower my opinion of you. Oh, Ed, I wish . . ." Al struggled for words. What could possibly be of any comfort to Ed now? "I wish I could've been there to help you. I wish it could've happened to me instead of you."

"NO, YOU DON'T!" In an instant Ed had turned to Al and was pounding his auto-mail fist on Al's chest, shocking the younger boy. "No, you don't, Al. Never say that again. I swam through the pits of hell this past week and the only thing that kept me from drowning completely was knowing that at least _you_ were spared. At least I can still protect _you_ from it."

"I don't even have a body right now," said Al quietly.

"But you will someday. I promised that. And after you do, if anyone ever tries to hurt you the same way that man hurt me, fight them with all your might. Even if they tie you up and you think no one's coming to save you, never stop fighting. Never be stupid and just choke and give up. _Never _let this happen to you – please."

He seemed to have suddenly become tired. He leaned against Al and spent a few moments just standing there and breathing. Then he straightened up and Al saw a shadow of the great Fullmetal Alchemist in his eyes. Ed turned and resumed walking.

"My heart is breaking for you," Al said.

Ed didn't pause. He only motioned for Al to keep following him.

**(Segment Break)**

The receptionist at the base must have been new. She greeted Al as Fullmetal. Ed couldn't even be bothered to correct her. He only asked where Fullmetal was supposed to be. She gave them a room number and they went.

Ed didn't know what he had been expecting to see on the other side of the door. But he certainly hadn't been expecting to see Franz Lota already there.

For a second he wanted to run out of the room, but he forced his feet to freeze on the spot. Hawkeye was saying something, but the room was only just coming into focus for him. It took a moment to actually see what he was looking at in front of him. Franz Lota was sitting handcuffed to a chair. Hawkeye and two uniformed officers stood around him.

Lota was staring straight into Ed's eyes. "Edward. You didn't mention that you're a state alchemist."

"He's told us the full story already," one of the officers informed Ed and Al. "He didn't seem to have any qualms about telling it, either. I said to him, 'So the boy asked you to stop?' And he said, 'Yes.' And I said, 'But you kept going anyway?' And he said, 'Yes.' And I said, 'Don't you realize that's illegal?' And he said, 'Yes, I know, but is it really so bad?' And I said, 'Yes, it's very bad!' And he –"

The officer stopped abruptly. His eyes retreated behind a veil. The three of them all looked like that – Hawkeye and the two officers. Their faces hid behind emotional masks that they'd made, shielding them from the full weight of the situation, lest it crash upon them and prevent them from working effectively. Yet, Ed could tell that some of the pain still bled through to them. It was impossible to keep it all out.

"Anyway," the officer said. "We just need you to confirm. Is this the man who raped you?"

Ed nodded.

"Edward," Lota repeated, his voice rising with despair. "Why are you doing this to me? I haven't done a thing to hurt you."

Ed answered before he could help it. He had thought his voice would waver, but instead his strength returned for just a moment. "Fuck you," he said in the coldest voice he'd ever used. "You know exactly what you did to me. You pretended it was something special and romantic, but you knew."

And Ed could tell from the malevolence that flashed across Lota's face that the man did indeed understand what he did. But that flicker of clarity lasted only for a second; in the next moment he was back to pretending. He needed that wretched game to live. "Was it not special?" he questioned. "I meant what I said about you. Even now, when you are being so cruel to me, you're still beautiful."

Al lost it then.

In an instant his hands were hovering close to Lota's throat, stopped only by a sharp warning from Hawkeye and the two officers who had grabbed hold of his body. "Lota," Al snarled. "I should kill you. If I could, I would kill you right now!"

Lota was looking up at Al's face, apparently trying to meet his eyes, but of course there weren't any behind the eye-holes of the armor. Appearing disturbed, Lota turned his head down. Ed walked to them and put his hand on his brother's arm, pulling on it, silently coaxing Al to back off. Al relaxed ever so slightly, showing his consent. Together they returned to stand by the door.

"Lonely," Lota said suddenly. Ed knew he was the one being addressed, even though the man was staring at his lap. "That's all I ever was."

Ed didn't reply. Lota was deluded beyond reason.

As soon as one of the officers announced Lota's jail sentence, the Fullmetal Alchemist left the room, his brother close behind him. He made it down the hall and into a corner before he broke. Silently he fell against the wall and slid to the floor.

"Brother!" Al exclaimed.

"I'm all right," Ed mumbled. "Seriously, I am. Just give me a moment and I'll be all right. Everything's better now."

END


End file.
